let's get out of this town (baby we're on fire)
by saltzmans
Summary: The thing with immortality is that it never quite turns out way you expect it to—klauselena.


**notes** | for elz, because i'm pretty sure i owe you a kelena from somewhere along the line.

* * *

Mystic Falls has become a town which is hot and heavy with the memories of a childhood better spent. The sunlit days are long and lazy, winding on endlessly, never quite seeming to end when the sun sinks below the skyline, because even the nights seem bright, lit by the moon and the stars as bright as the summer sun.

The days stretch onwards in a soporific sort of daze; time is filled with a soft haziness which seems to consume ones every waking hour and contrary to the other sleepy residents of the forgotten town, it's on days like these when Elena Gilbert feels most restless.

Life has begun to form a game of sorts. There are pieces and there are players, all interlinked, and on good days, they all move together. The sun rises and sets; the stars come out and then blink away into darkness; the world spins on and the game continues as ever.

Those are the good days.

On the bad days, the cogs of the game begin to rust. Elena finds herself slipping into the place of a player. She is shuffled around the board, moving from one end to another, never quite finding solace. The other players around her suffocate her: Damon wants to consume her; Stefan wants to protect her; a whole multitude of supernatural creatures want to kill her.

And thus, it's the bad days which start the restlessness within in her. The itch which whispers promises of escape and freedom; of power and independence; of a chance to start afresh. It grows and grows, a monster (or maybe it's an angel) inside of her, urging her to go — to leave — to make a difference.

So one morning, when she wakes up on a day which is hot and heavy with the memories of a childhood better spent, Elena Gilbert packs a bag and begins to run.

.

First, she goes to a little seaside town off the East Coast. It's a little like Mystic Falls so that the pangs of missing home are far and few between, but there's enough difference so that Elena can feel like finally she's moving on.

On her second night in the town, she's sitting in a little cafe by the beach drinking a cocktail she can't remember the name of and Elena's rather hoping that by the end of the night she won't be able to remember her own name either. Across the bar there's a handsome man with Damon's eyes and Stefan's smile who she'd rather like to help her forget it all.

Elena's subtly trying to make eye contact when there's a warm breath on her neck and a voice whispers, "I wouldn't go for that one, love. He's got a bit of a reputation."

She recognises the whisperer in a heartbeat. "And you don't have a reputation?" She shoots back without turning around.

"I wasn't aware you were trying to get into my bed," comes the instant reply, "it was just a bit of friendly advice. I wouldn't want to see old friends heading off down dangerous paths."

"We're not friends, Klaus," Elena says, turning around to face the hybrid, "in fact, if I remember correctly, I'd say we were enemies."

"Enemies?" Klaus looks horrified. "I thought we parted on good terms, love."

"You tried to murder me. Actually, you tried to murder me multiple times. And you tried to murder most of my friends and family. Again, multiple times. So no, we're not friends."

"I'm a changed man, Miss Gilbert," Klaus beams infuriatingly.

"Really?"

"No." Klaus' grin is more wolfish than sheepish. "But let me buy you a drink to make up for it?"

"I think I'm going to need more than a drink for that," Elena mutters darkly.

"And I'll be happy to oblige," Klaus says, "what will you be having, love?"

Elena smiles slightly. "Nothing today."

She stands up, brushing down her skirt. "It was lovely seeing you again," she calls over her shoulders as she walks off into the night.

.

In the end it doesn't matter whether the man with Damon's eyes and Stefan's smile has a reputation or not because Elena compels him to forget their nights galavanting as the first rays of sun begin to creep through the chiffon curtains of her room. In the morning, she kisses him goodbye outside her hotel and the taste of the stranger's lips send a pang of nostalgia through her.

As she breaks away, Elena notices Klaus leaning against a flagpole on the opposite side of the road, sipping at a glass of a red liquid too thick to be wine.

She winks at him and Klaus raises his glass as she disappears into the hotel.

Their game is on.

And whatever the game may be, Elena has the feeling that this time she's a player.

.

The next time they meet is in New York and the freedom of the city has infected Elena. Mystic Falls is but a distant memory, a dream dreamt by another person.

The feelings which she is experiencing, Elena decides, are similar to those of be humanity-less. There's a lightness to her being, a devil-may-care attitude which cruises through her, compelling her to be someone she wouldn't usually be, do things she wouldn't normally do.

She's got a job in a bar downtown, and it's mundane and rowdy and Elena knows she could do much better but she likes it anyway. The booze is free, the boys ready – what more could she want?

It's a quite Friday night when Klaus finds her. His ability to appear as if from no where is still creates the same exasperated irritation as it did in Mystic Falls and Elena jumps a little as she turns around and finds him watching her from across the room.

She ignores him but she can feel his eyes burning her back as she polishes cups. Eventually, she gives in walking over to his table hoping the look on her face is as close to a scalding glare as possible.

"What do you want?" She asks.

"My, my, Miss Gilbert," Klaus says, smiling amiably, "I must say you're much less chipper than the last time we met."

"What do you want?" She repeats.

"A cider would be nice," Klaus comments, inspecting his nails, "although the service here is rather tardy. I've been waiting for over thirty minutes."

"You don't want a cider," Elena hisses. The reappearance of Klaus is getting under her skin. It's been a while since she's seen anyone so close to Mystic Falls and the euphoria New York has been creating is slowly leaking away.

"On the contrary, I'm awfully dehydrated. Summer in New York can been frightful."

"No. Klaus. What do you want?"

"Fine, fine," Klaus smiles, "I want dinner."

"We don't serve food except on weekends."

Klaus scrunches up his nose and looks around the dim bar with a look of disgust. "Not here. I believe there's a lovely Italian round the corner."

"There is," Elena agrees. "I've been there with my boyfriend." She doesn't bother mentioning he's an ex boyfriend.

Klaus ignores her comment, and Elena's not entirely sure whether he's seen through her lie or is just choosing to pretend she didn't say anything. "When does your shift end?"

"Not any time soon."

"Sweetheart, I've got eternity to wait."

"Goodbye, Klaus," Elena says with emphasised finality.

"Fine," Klaus rises with a smile, "until later, Miss Gilbert."

Elena snorts. "I wouldn't bet on it."

"Whatever you say," Klaus replies, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Elena's cheek.

As he exits the bar, Elena stands watching him, thinking that maybe the playing field is about to change.

.

She leaves Nee York after the visit from Klaus. After his appearance the city seemed to have a changed appeal.

The lights don't seem quite so bright anymore.

The forest town just on the border of Canada, however, suits her new needs impeccably.

The tiny village is compiled of one hundred and eighty four residents and there's a peaceful lull spread over the area which Elena is glad of after the bustle of New York.

She thinks of Mystic Falls more in her little cabin hidden in the edge of the woods, but it's with a lighthearted nostalgia more than any ache or pain.

Klaus also creeps unbidden into her thoughts more often than not. He creeps into her mind like the fog which slides over the lake outside her house in the early morning. But she doesn't view him with the same resentment she has for the last few years.

Instead, there's a curiosity — a chance to understand something new within the ancient hybrid and the twisted game he's created with Elena.

She's seen him twice since New York. Once in New Orleans and another time in San Francisco.

The meetings flow with the same cautious moves as ever — Klaus' lighthearted pick up lines and Elena's stiff refusals — but slowly the axis has begun to tilt.

There's an underlying tension now — a loaded spring waiting to explode: neither of them quite brave enough to pull the trigger for fear of what may lie under the rubble of the aftermath.

Despite herself, Elena has recently found herself looking out for Klaus more. Searching amongst crowds for sharp blue eyes, dark stubble or a wolffish smile.

Yet it doesn't stop a shiver from running down her spine when he appears at the edge of the wood one morning.

He smiles languidly up at her, curled up on the veranda swing with a book. "Morning," he calls.

"Same to you," she replies, "although if you're selling Girl Scout Cookies like my last visitor, I'm afraid I have to disappoint you — I've already bought my weight in biscuits."

"Yes," Klaus says thoughtfully, "it's certainly not cookies you want."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elena retorts, although they both know the underlying meaning in Klaus' comment.

"Why don't I join you and we can talk?" Klaus suggests.

For a moment Elena considers refusing yet again, knowing that if she did he would leave quite unperturbed but the game is changing, she remembers.

"It's quite the haven you've found out here, Elena," Klaus says, settling himself next to Elena on the veranda.

Her name on his tongue sounds foreign.

"It's home," Elena replies.

"I can see that," Klaus smiles, "solitude suits you."

"It does." Elena has to agree because the isolated little village has lifted a weight off her shoulders. The dark circles under her eyes have begun to fade away; her shoulders don't sag quite so much, and for a dead a mortal, something that looks a little like vitality has begun to creep back into her eyes.

"Wuthering Heights," Klaus raises his eyebrow at the book Elena has been reading, "I didn't take Brontë as your cup of tea."

"It's not," Elena rubs her nose. Small talk with Klaus is unnerving and all of a suddenly she's hyper aware of his skin of his arm against hers. "I hate how Cathy thinks she can't be with Heathcliff because he is wild; because he's been cast down so low. And how that turns him into a monster."

"Can't monsters be loved?" Klaus asks and there's a dark hollowness to his voice.

"What do you want, Klaus?" Elena asks and the repeated question seems tired on her tongue.

"You," he replies, a faint curl to his lips.

"I—" Elena begins and then suddenly they're kissing.

It's a wild, feverish kissing — all hard hands, touching and searching and holding. Klaus kisses Elena and all thoughts of monsters are extinguished from her mind.

Klaus consumes her — moving along her neck, chest, stomach, thighs. Bruises form and heal. They tumble into the house, knocking over a vase of peonies as they fall onto the bed.

They come together in a mess of lust and petals and an ache which has stretched over decades.

They come together and finally Elena feels free.

.

When Elena awakes the next morning, the sun is high in the sky and the bed is empty.

And amidst the crushed peony petals on crumpled sheets, a final sort of contend fills her.

Elena smiles and falls back to sleep.

.

They meet again over the years — the hybrid and the doppelgänger locked in their battle of wits, of passion and was that maybe love?

They find each other across the world, in sleazy hotels, seaside bars, hidden grottos. They join together in a mess of freedom and redemption; of nostalgia and forgetting; of stolen kisses and peonies on white pillow cases.

And every time they do so, the cycle repeats and the game continues.

.

.

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